


Songs To Play With Your Ghost Band

by Beethovensbitxh



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Julie Molina, Bisexual Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), F/F, F/M, Lesbian Carrie Wilson, Lesbian Flynn (Julie and The Phantoms), M/M, Pansexual Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), its still growing, will add tags as it grows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:54:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beethovensbitxh/pseuds/Beethovensbitxh
Summary: A collection of short Julie and the Phantoms oneshot's based off of songs (including some from the show itself)
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters & Willie, Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson, Bobby | Trevor Wilson/Reggie Peters, Flynn/Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 63





	1. Drivers License

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Driver's License by Olivia Rodrigo

_I got my driver's license last week Just like we’d always talked about_

_Cause you were so excited for me_

_To finally drive up to your house_

_But today I drove through the suburbs_

_Crying ‘cause you weren’t around_

Bobby loved the way Luke looked at him. They were the definition of heart eyes. He could spend forever looking at him, drawing circles on the small of his back and running his hands through Luke’s hair. He liked how warm Luke was when Bobby held him, and how easy it was to tackle him in a hug, and how soft his lips were when he pulled Luke into a kiss.

Out of all of them, Bobby was the youngest, so learning to drive wasn’t the best thing when his oldest friend already had his license. Luke had his license, but he shouldn’t have been allowed to drive after he’d backed over a newly planted baby tree only two days before his driver's test, which left his parents and friends terrified to be in the car or even around it when he drove. But still, all 4 friends would squish into Bobby’s parents old Camero and take turns driving around the roads, until Alex got too anxious about having Luke in the drivers seat and inevitably took over. Bobby would watch the way Alex’s hand would linger on Luke’s shoulder as he signaled for Luke to get out and switch, and how Luke never shoved it off.

_And you’re probably with that blonde boy_

_Who always made me doubt_

_He’s so much older than me_

_He’s everything I’m insecure about_

_Yeah, today I drove through the suburbs_

_Cause how could I ever love someone else_

But he hated the way Luke looked at Alex, how Alex had his undivided attention once practice started, how Luke swung his feet while sitting on the table as Alex showed off a new solo he came up with. Bobby didn’t hate Alex. It was the crazy boyfriend jealousy that came with every new relationship he’d ever had. That’s what he hated. Alex had the charm and the hair and look.

Bobby had never been insecure about himself until he noticed how the other boys always seemed to stop and stare at Alex. Bobby wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t bad looking. He attracted attention on the street, but the one person who he wanted to stare at him was always looking a different way. Still, he put up with it. He dressed in different clothes, parted his hair down the middle like Alex had, and picked up a new jean jacket.

_Bobby just wanted Luke to look at him again, like he was his whole world, like he loved him._

_And I know we weren’t perfect, but I’ve never felt this way for no one_

_And I just can’t imagine how you could be so okay now that I’m gone_

_Guess you didn’t mean what you wrote in that song about me_

_Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street_

The day Bobby let it all out, in a heap on the studio floor, gripping onto his guitar so hard he could’ve snapped the strings, was the day it all ended.

Luke had gone on and on about how Alex had nailed his solo, not stopping to even mention Bobby’s riff that he’d finally gotten down, which he’d been struggling with for weeks. Bobby had yelled, screamed, cried over how for months he’d put up with the lingering stares and the touches and the compliments and the smiles and the jokes. He’d put up with it all. He left in silence, Luke staring where he’d stood before. The air was tainted with hatred and fury and jealousy. They didn’t talk about it, but Luke stopped holding his hand,

stopped cuddling with him on the couch, stopped kissing his cheek when he left for the night. Bobby didn’t realize until it was over that he’d missed everything Luke did. Luke’s touch disappeared from his skin, the glimmer in his eyes whenever he did look at him was gone, and the small smirk on the corners of his mouth as they sang turned into a frown.

_Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street_

_Yeah, you said forever, now I drive alone past your street_


	2. Sweater Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood

_All I am is a man,_ _I want the world in my hands_

_I hate the beach_ _, b_ _ut I stand in California with my toes in the sand_

_Use the sleeves of my sweater_

_We’ll_ _have an adventure_

_Touch my neck_

_And_ _I'll_ _touch yours_

_You and your little high waisted shorts_ _, oh_

Reggie didn’t hate living in California. In fact, it was quite nice. What he didn’t like was living right on the beach. Sand wasn’t nice in the boots or the flannel, plus the constant sun exposure left sunburn on his cheeks and forehead often, and it was not pleasant. 

He liked Bobby though, and how he didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought of him. Bobby would stand on the shore, his pants rolled up just above his ankles, and watch the water. Although Reggie wasn’t completely sure if him rolling the bottoms of his jeans were intentionally done to avoid getting them wet. He also liked when Bobby would snap his suspenders against his chest and wink at Reggie. 

He also liked Luke, and how, whenever they shared a mic, Luke would grab the part of his shoulder where the blade was sharpest and cup the side of his neck, pulling him in so much closer. He also liked how Luke smelled when they sat next to each other in English, and always meant to ask what cologne he used, but never got around to it before they died. Ghosts didn’t need cologne anyway, so he never brought it up. 

And he liked how into the music Alex got, and the way he shot a smile towards Reggie while Luke and Bobby duetted at the front. Alex always had extra hoodies in the trunk of his car, and when LA got unusually cold and Reggie would, inevitably, not have a jacket, Alex would always throw one at him, even though it was big on him and hung off his hands and draped down to his knees. 

_She knows what I’m thinking about_

_And what I_ _'m_ _thinking about_

_One love, two mouths_

_One love, one house_

_No shirt, no blouse_

_Just us, you find out_

_Nothing that I wouldn’t_ _wanna_ _tell you about, oh_

Reggie also liked his first girlfriend, Maggie, and how her eyes sparkled when she watched the lights strung up in Bobby’s garage flicker. He liked the way her cheek fit perfectly in his hand when he kissed her. He had been teaching her how to play bass when her dad got a big promotion and she moved away, and then they broke up. He wasn’t entirely sure if she’d kept up with it after that, and he wished they’d had more time together. Even after he died, he wondered what happened to her. 

He also admired the waitress at the diner that always brought Luke an extra plate of fries, free of charge, after she noticed how skinny he got when he ran away, even if she risked her job doing it. She was older, at least 20 to their 17, but she almost always left with a grin. He liked the way she did her eyeliner, and how sharp it was, and how perfect her nail polish always was, but never built up the courage to ask her how she did it. 

And he liked that one flowy button up in the store front next to the record store at the other end of Santa Monica beach. The bottoms of the sleeves were puffy, and it sloped down the chest of the mannequin and into the dress pants it was tucked into. Reggie pretended that he didn’t want to stop and stare at it anytime he and the boys walked past it. 

He pretended that he didn’t imagine wearing it while kissing a boy. He pretended that he didn’t want to put on the sharpest winged eyeliner and teach every girl who asked how to do it. He pretended that he didn’t want to kiss boys and girls. 

_Cause it’s too cold, woah_

_For you here and now_

_So, l_ _et me hold, woah_

_Both your hands in the holes of my sweater_

It took Reggie a long time to admit it all. Nearly 26 years to be exact. 

It had been a long time since the flowy button up, and the eyeliner, and the nails. A long time since he’d secretly eyed the boy in the corner of his history class that wore crop tops and a nose piercing, wondering why he found himself thinking about the way the shirt rode up whenever he stretched. A long time since he’d kissed Maggie on the temple and helped guide her hands to the right chords on command and wondered how lucky he got. 

When Julie mentioned her bisexuality, Reggie just held his hand up for a high five, letting the whole intangible thing slip his mind, and said “Hell yeah! Me too!” The boys didn’t even act surprised. They’d known for a while, but figured he’d let them know when the time was right. Not even Julie reacted, she just smiled and gave him an air high five. 

Reggie hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud, but he didn’t make a big deal of it. He was just happy they understood. Happy he fit in finally. Happy to be able to paint his nails, and wear badass sharp eyeliner, and cut his shirts into crop tops (with Luke’s help, he’d been cutting his clothes up for years, plus Julie didn’t trust him with safety scissors). 

_And It’s too cold, it’s too cold_

_In the holes of my sweater_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To get myself in the right headspace, I listened to Sweater Weather on repeat for an hour as I wrote and I have the whole thing memorized now


	3. Take Me to Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take Me to Church by Hozier

_If the Heavens ever did speak_

_She’s the last true_ _mouthpiece_

_Every Sunday’s getting more bleak_

_A fresh poison each week_

_“You were born sick”_

_You heard them say it_

The first time Alex kissed a boy was in 8th grade. He’d gone to Bryan Godwin’s 14th birthday party with Reggie and on the second round of Truth or Dare, Bryan had dared him to kiss Darren Sampson. Both had blushed and tried to deny it, but a dare is a dare, and Darren had never backed down from a dare. It was everywhere by Sunday morning. Alex Mercer had kissed a boy. 

His mother had practically dragged him to church by the ear that morning, and they sat front and center in the pews, listening to the pastor preach whatever homily he’d chosen for that week. Alex had never felt farther from the Church than he did that morning, even though he was sitting right there. Dinner was silent and there was this feeling in the air that made Alex feel like he’d just eaten a sour candy and the knife in his gut just kept twisting. He’d listened to his mother's rants about being gay, and how “no son of mine will be like that”. 

He would never admit that he liked that kiss, or that he’d kissed Darren Sampson 3 more times after that. He would never admit that he looked at boys the same way his sister did. He’d never admit that the cross around his neck felt like a silver bullet, digging into his skin and leaving unseen welts that burned worse than the fires of Hell the pastor screamed about. 

_Take me to church_

_I worship like a dog_

_At the shrine of your lies_

_I tell you my sin_ _s_ _so you can sharpen your knife_

_Offer me that deathless death_

_Good God, let me give you my life_

The first time Alex took off that cross, letting the single cold chain hang by itself, he felt so calm and free. He and his boys had gone up to Griffith Park for a gig, and Alex had this sinking feeling in his gut the entire time. After the party, when they were packing up their instruments and trying to figure out how in the hell they were getting Bobby’s dad’s truck back down the mountain without breaking the drums, Alex realized what it was. The clasp on the cross had snapped, and the charm had fallen into the dirt. They spent an hour looking, but it was near dark and no one could find it. He faced the lecture when he got home and clenched his jaw so hard that he nearly chipped a tooth. 

Even though he had lost it, every weight and lecture and homily was finally lost. He felt new. That stinging feeling was gone and for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel like there was this overwhelming presence looming over him. He didn’t feel like he owed anyone anything. Alex was finally free of the thing that had haunted him for years. 

Dad had drilled into him that “Jesus died for your sins. That’s why we owe it to him to praise him”, but Alex knew that was bullshit. He’d never asked Jesus to do that, he’d never forced him to die. Plus, he would’ve died at some point. Illness ran rampant and it was not easy back then. Alex just wanted to be himself, not the crap his parents and the pastor spewed. 

_No masters or kings when the ritual begins_

_There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin_

_In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene_

_Only then I am human_

_Only then I am clean_

The first time Alex got kicked out was the day his parents staged an intervention. He’d come home after band practice to a dozen people from his parent's church in his living room, all holding bibles and praying the rosary. His parents church, not his. He hadn’t stepped foot inside in a long time. It felt wrong saying he belonged there now. Alex listened to these people drone on and on about how being gay was sin, and how he just needed to pray away the temptation. He’d refused. 

It took a week for his parents to finally send police to Luke’s house to bring Alex back home. _Home_. No, to his parents' house. He rarely came home after that, but when he did, it was late at night after his parents had gone to sleep. Usually, his sister was awake, and they’d talk a bit while he warmed up leftovers if he hadn’t eaten yet. She was the only one in his family who still loved him no matter what, and the only one who knew who his first boyfriend was. She was also the one to deliver his eulogy. 

Her brother was a kind and amazing kid, who would’ve done anything to help if you needed it. There were late nights whispering over plates of spaghetti and quiet looks of reassurance when their parents caught him before going to bed. Alex would’ve hated that his funeral was in a church, he would’ve resented it and their parents, who had demanded and gone behind his sisters back to have it their way. But at least, in death, he was free of everything they’d put him through. She left before the final song ended. 

_Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen_


	4. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two by Sleeping At Last

_Sweetheart, you look a little tired_

_When did you last eat?_

_Come in and make yourself at home_

_Stay_ _as long as_ _you need_

_Tell me, is something wrong?_

_If somethings wrong, you can count on me_

_You know I’ll take my heart clean apart, if it helps yours beat_

Every time Reggie saw him, his gut twisted in a knot and his chest ached and it felt like he couldn’t breathe. It was a good feeling though, because it was Bobby that made him feel loved again. The stupid suspenders and the curtain bangs and the small smile he hid while in public, it swallowed Reggie tight enough to feel like he was underneath a weighted blanket. 

Every time Bobby saw him, his face got hot, and his hands became sweaty and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Reggie made him hyper aware of everything going on in that instance, but time also slowed down around him and sometimes it felt like he was going to have a panic attack. But Reggie gave the best hugs and it really did help sometimes. 

_It’s okay if you can’t find your words_

_Let me take your coat_

_And this weight off your shoulders_

The first time Reggie thought “I love you”, they were standing on the beach, and Bobby was looking at the sky, letting the droplets pelt his face as he breathed in the fresh air. And he looked so beautiful, all Reggie could think was “I love you I love you I love you I love you”, but then Bobby called him a dork for staring and the moment didn’t seem right. 

The first time Bobby thought “I love you”, they were at this dinky diner, drinking milkshakes and sharing a plate of fries. And Reggie smeared some of his strawberry milkshake on his upper lip and all Bobby could think was “I love you I love you I love you I love you”, but Reggie wiped it off and threw the napkin at him, then stole a sip of Bobby’s milkshake, and the moment was interrupted long enough to forget, but it lingered. 

_Like a force to be reckoned with_

_A mighty ocean or a gentle kiss_

_I will love you with every single thing I have_

_Like a tidal wave, we’ll make a mess_

_Or calm waters, if that serves you best_

_I will love you without any strings attached_

The first time they actually said it though was on Bobby’s 17th birthday, as they stood on the balcony of Reggie’s second floor and looked out on the ocean. Reggie’s parents were out of town and his brothers had gone off to different houses, leaving the two teenagers alone for the weekend. It just slipped out, a quick “I love you” from Bobby, which Reggie met with a grin and a soft “I love you too.” The air tasted salty and fresh, and it became Bobby’s new favorite scent, because _fuck_ , he was in love. 

It was the type of love that fulfilled every need just by basking in it and found every single open pore and shoved its way inside you. Reggie and Bobby shoved themselves into their own little bubble and never planned on stepping foot outside. 

And everything was great. Amazing even. Until it wasn’t. Until everything outside their little bubble started crashing down and the bubble popped and everything they’d built fell. Reggie cried and Bobby yelled, and their friends were scared of what might happen. Then it went away, their bubble dissolved into the concrete because everything outside it was shit and sharp rocks can hurt even if you’re protected. 

It would take a long, long time for Bobby to process it all, but that was after the Street Dogs and the Orpheum and the night that took his best friends away. 

_I_ _don’t_ _even know where to start_

_Already tired of trying to recall where it fell apart_

_I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well_

_I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved by you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Meg (Tomb-with-a-view) for suggesting the song cause I straight up couldn’t think of one


	5. Kiss Her You fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly

_Stop making up_ _your_ _excuses_

_Call her up, tell her you_ _forgot_ _something_

_It’s worth more than you are thinking_

_Don’t be a fool, tell her you think_ _she's_ _cool_

Luke had a problem with obliviousness. It was bad, really bad. He also had a problem with not being shown songs beforehand. Especially when those songs weren’t written by him or Julie. He didn’t have a problem with his boys writing songs, he loved them and would let them take over as songwriter if he didn’t love doing it so much, but it always worried him that Reggie would turn them into one of those country bands Julie had shown them. It was, simply put, a surprise. 

Julie didn’t share Luke’s thoughts on the idea, and even encouraged Alex and Reggie to take lead on the song. Them being even just the bit corporeal had its benefits, even for her. The completely trusted her boys, maybe not with her family, or hell forbid Trevor, but she did with the music. There had been plenty of instances where she fumbled over a note or a lyric, and one of them would swoop in and save her, and the song. They always knew what they were doing. 

Alex and Reggie had spent months watching Luke’s lingering gaze whenever she was playing piano and Julies smile that always seemed to get even brighter when he was casually singing lyrics he’d come up with on the spot. It was disgustingly cute, and Alex thought if he had to endure anymore of this he’d die a second time. 

_Stop waiting for fairytales to_

_Take you away, don’t wait for_ _someday_

_Shes thinking the same thing as_ _you_

_Don’t be afraid,_ _dreams_ _aren’t found, they're_ _made_

As soon as Luke heard that first line, he knew he was eternally fucked. Reggie looked right at him as he sang the lyrics, an amusing smirk creeping across his face. Alex also seemed to find this whole situation funny as his eyes shot between Luke and Julie. Both of them knew. Both of them fucking knew. Luke just wanted to sink back into his seat and hide from the utter embarrassment coming his way. 

Julie swallowed the lump in her throat at the third line and made a mental note to find a way to strangle them both at some point. She seriously considered giving their souls to Caleb in that moment. Alex raised an eyebrow and gave a nod that said, “come on, you know this song kills”. It was a pretty good song. Reggie just kept trying to suppress his giggles, but every so often a little one would sneak its way into the lyrics. 

It didn’t take Alex and Reggie long to realize the weird “will they won't they” thing Luke and Julie had going on. They spent most days writing songs, which gave the other dynamic duo of the four enough time to write a totally rad song to push them together. Alex had been a little nervous about it at first, but Reggie smiled and assured him with a “Dude, if we don’t do this now, you’re going to be the one sitting in the middle of ‘Luke is such a good songwriter’ and ‘Julie is a torpedo full of talent’ for the rest of your afterlife”. Alex agreed after that. 

_Cause you’ve only got one_ _chance_

_You’ve only got one_ _chance_

_Kiss her you_ _fool_

_Kiss her you_ _fool_

_Kiss her you_ _fool_

_Kiss her you_ _fool_

Alex and Reggie had mutually agreed to poof out the moment the song ended, in order to trap Luke and Julie alone. Sure, there was the chance that Luke poofed out first, but Alex guessed he’d be too stricken with fluster he’d forget he was able to do that. It seemed to work though, since Luke just stared at the amps for a good 2 minutes afterward. 

Luke looked over to Julie, who was so wrapped up thinking about how to kill ghosts, she’d barely noticed the boys had left, leaving them alone. Luke loved how cute she was when she was angry though, and how her eyebrows furrowed together and how she always clenched her jaw and then next thing he knew he was putting a hand on her cheek and pulling her face to look at his. Her face was so warm, for a second Luke felt alive again. 

Julie was chilled to the bone when Lukes palm met her face, but it was cancelled out almost immediately by her body heat. And in that little moment before it happened, Julie reached out to grab his shirt and pulled him closer and then they were kissing, and Luke had never felt so warm in his entire life (and afterlife). And her lips tasted like honey and lemon and she smelled like sandalwood and citrus. He didn’t smell or taste like anything, but Julie could’ve sworn there was a faint scent of burning lavender in the air. 

_Cause you’ve only got one_ _chance_

_You’ve only got one chance_

_Kiss her you_ _fool_


	6. Arms Tonite (TRIGGER WARNING)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arms Tonite by Mother Mother  
> TW/ mentions of su*cide, mentions of de*th, blood

_I fell in your arms tonight_

_I fell hard in your arms tonight_

_It was nice_

_I died in your arms tonight_

_I slipped through into the afterlife_

_And it was nice_

_White lights in your arms tonight_

_I lost sight in your arms tonight_

_It was nice_

It was like wherever Bobby went, his friends followed. Not in the “carrying momentos in a box with me” following. Bobby had ghosts haunting him. It started off catching shadows out of the corner of his eye, and then they were there mocking him and singing the same goddamn song and Bobby wanted to punch Luke in his stupid face but “he’s dead how the hell can you even do that?”

They were _always_ there. When Bobby moved into a hotel 4 months after their deaths, unable to spend any more time in that damned house, he was met with undeniable agony. He’d left everything there: their instruments, their things, their dreams. He hoped one day someone would find a use for it all. 

_Why won’t you leave me alone. Why won’t you leave me alone_. Most nights, he muttered it in his sleep, as the ghosts of his past hung over him, taunting him with that god awful song. 

_And hey, you, don’t you think it’s kinda cute_

_That I (I) died (died) right inside your arms tonight?_

_That I’m fine even after I have died?_

_Because I was in your arms I died_

Reggie frequented the chair to the left side of the bed most often. Bobby slept on his left side. He lay there and Reggie stared at him, humming the chorus. Bobby kept track of what days he slept, and what days he didn’t. It was a constant battle most Saturday nights. Saturday was the day they died on. He learned to start sleeping on his right side.

When Reggie died, he’d held him and promised everything would be okay and planted a kiss on his forehead and his cheeks and his nose and then his lips, and he felt Reggie draw in his final breath. And Reggie had looked up at him as the pain started to subside and he knew this wasn’t just going away. Maybe that’s why the ghost of his dead boyfriend was still there. Bobby had broken his final promise. 

_I cried in the afterlife_

_I cry hard because I have died_

_And your alive_

_I try to escape afterlife_

_I try hard to get back inside_

_Your arms tonight._

Alex hung around the bathroom a lot while Bobby showered. He’d sit on the back of the toilet, feet flat against the lid, and stare at his old friend through bloodshot eyes. _He’ll go away_ , Bobby would repeat to himself, but Alex never did. He just sat, tapping out the rhythm to the song on the counter. Tapping until Bobby finally turned the light off and slammed the door behind him. 

When Alex died, Bobby shook him so hard he was afraid he was going to break something. Alex never woke up, even though Bobby threatened to lick his face despite knowing Alex was a germaphobe and promised never to do that. Maybe that’s why the ghost of his dead childhood best friend was still there. Bobby was playing with fire by doing that. 

_And hey (hey) you (you) don’t you think it’s kinda cute_

_That I (I) try (try) to escape the afterlife?_

_That I (I) try (try) to get back in your arms alive?_

Luke sat out in the hall against the door a lot. He was the one lending the vocals to that fucking song, and the acoustics in the hall made it even more heavenly. _Heaven was where they should be_. Bobby rarely left anymore. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at Luke, with his skin completely flushed and the blood staining his lips and his shirt. 

When Luke died, Bobby had stumbled over with a bucket from under the sink in the green room and tried to get him to spit as much as possible. It was running down his face and Bobby patted his back, but by then Reggie and Alex were falling over and he was rushing to them. Maybe that’s why the ghost of his other dead childhood best friend was still there. Bobby had left him by himself. 

_I fell in your arms tonight_

_Suicide in your arms_

And Bobby went there. He was on the edge. And then suddenly, like black smoke had cleared, he wasn’t. The damn song had stopped, leaving behind a guitar riff that sounded eerliy like one Luke had played 20 times before. That was when Bobby finally picked his guitar back up. 

_I fell in your arms tonight_

_I died in your arms tonight_

_I lie in your arms tonight_

_I fell in your arms tonight_

_(I fell in your arms tonight)_


	7. Break My Heart Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Break My Heart Again by FINNEAS

_ Hey you _

_ I’m just now leaving _

_ Can I come around later on this evening  _

_ Or do you need time? _

_ Yes of course that’s fine _

_ Hey you _

_ Good morning _

_ I’m sure you’re busy now, why else would you ignore me? _

_ Or do you need space? _

_ You can’t help it if your mind has changed _

Luke was lost in his grief. Maybe it wasn’t the regular kind of grief, but it was the loss of a loved one. That feeling of guilt and betrayal and sadness built up in the pit of his stomach and anchored itself like a rock.

He’d run out, left them behind and not looked back. When he’d gotten to Sunset Boulevard, drawn to that comforting blue light of the Orpheum sign like a moth to a lamppost, his back was sweaty and that taste of home lingered in his mouth. But he couldn’t go back. How could he? That’s not how this worked. 

So he stayed out for the night, guitar hugged close to his back and bike next to his hip. Maybe he could’ve gone to one of his friends houses, but it was late and the rain had started to pour. Any other night the boys would’ve been racing to the beach to experience one of LA’s few rainy days. This was a different night though. 

_ You’re so blue _

_ Are you still breathing? _

_ Can you tell me if _

_ You find some deeper meaning _

_ Do you think I’ve gone blind? _

_ I know it’s not the truth _

_ When you say “I’m fine” _

Dying wasn’t in the plans for Sunset Curve. It had never been in the options. If Luke could choose between life or music, maybe his friends or family would say “music”, but Luke wasn’t as holed up and selfish as that. He would’ve chosen life. If he’d had the choice. But instead he lived off stupid hotdogs sold out of the trunk of a car because he had no money and no home cooked meals to come home to and no bed. He slept on a couch in a barely insulated garage that had lumps and years of dirt stuffed into its cracks and he ate Cup O’ Noodles every night because if Bobby’s parents found out he was living in there they’d throw him out. 

And Emily could remember how blue the lights on the cop car were, and how it lit up the unusually quiet house, filling it with that type of noise that only happens when it’s almost silent. She’d lost her baby, and Luke wasn’t coming back. She hated the color blue after that. It had been Luke’s favorite color since he was little, but now it only reminded her of broken promises and empty dreams.

Mitch held his wife as she cried, and thanked Bobby for being there for his boy when he couldn’t. He didn’t let tears spill in the open, raised on the significance of “men don’t cry”, but as he saw Bobby break down on their doorstep when he came for a visit years later, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for not crying. So he did when that girl came to their house after 25 years, the week after his son’s birthday, bearing an unsaid apology and that same shade of blue in her sweater. 

_ Don’t pretend _

_ That I’m the instigator _

_ You were the one but you were born to say goodbye _

_ Kissed me half a decade later  _

_ That same perfume… _

_ Those same sad eyes _

They’d grown up in an hour. Parents say “they grow up fast” when talking about their children but they don’t apply it to themselves. Emily’s hair had grayed and Mitch had lost that spring in his step. Yet the house hadn’t changed, except the footstool by the mantle had been replaced, but it still bore the same ugly floral pattern as it had in 1994. 

And he cried as Emily held onto that picture of Luke next to the couch and kissed her thumb before pressing it to the frame. And she sung that sweet lullaby she’d sung when he was a kid. But his head burned with anger and the tears in his eyes turned from sadness to hatred.

Of course, he couldn’t hate her, but this feeling in his gut, that wasn’t even there anymore, told him she blamed it all… every single thing… on his music. On him. But she couldn’t kiss his head and tell him it was okay when he died because she wasn’t there. He wasn’t there. He was in an alleyway. He’d always be in a dark alleyway surrounded by strangers on the biggest night of his short life, struggling to breath through the vomit and the pain. 

_ Go ahead and break my heart again _

_ Leave me wonderin' why the hell I ever let you in _

_ Are you the definition of insanity? _

_ Or am I? _

_ Or am I? _

_ It must be nice _

_ To love someone who lets you break them twice _


	8. Arabella

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arabella by Arctic Monkeys

_Arabella's got some interstellar gator-skin boots_

_An’ a Helter Skelter ‘round her little finger_

_An’ I ride it endlessly_

_She’s got a Barbarella silver swimsuit_

_An’ when she needs to shelter from reality_

_She takes a dip in my daydreams_

Flynn always liked to wear the most outrageous colors and patterns she could find. So, what if patterns clashed sometimes? She looked cool and it really did fit her personality. People say “I don’t bite” but sometimes Flynn did. Well, metaphorically. Whoever was in her company could sometimes find themselves feeling like they were thrown around in a carnival ride without being properly restrained and they didn’t know how long the ride was going to last.

Carrie was the kind of girl that used to roller skate by the beach and dance to herself as music blared over her ridiculously large headphones. Her mind was her escape from fame, and when she skated, she danced to herself and just took it all in. The feeling of the sun and the ocean spray that drifted up to the pier. She used the music to hide herself away for a minute, let go of the name Wilson and just be Carrie. Carrie with no responsibilities and certainly no constant worrying about dance routines and voice lessons.

And maybe they differed in more ways than one. Maybe Flynn wore big jackets and bright clothes to distinguish herself and maybe Carrie wore dull colors and not things that stood out to hide away, but maybe they missed the looks and the compliments and the half-meant rudeness that went along with a childhood crush. And maybe, just maybe, the other saw it. But neither ever said anything because the whole point of being enemies would be thrown out the window.

But Flynn _really_ wanted to just kiss Carrie and let the taste of strawberry lip-gloss linger on her own lips and cherry perfume wrap around her because Carrie hadn’t changed that much in 2 years.

But Carrie _really_ wanted to leave lipstick stains of Flynn’s forehead and engrain the smell of lemongrass in her brain because holy fuck it smelled great, and Carrie was sure it should be scent of the year.

_My days end best when the sunset gets itself behind_

_The little lady sittin’ on the passenger side_

_It’s much less picturesque without her catchin’ the light_

_The horizon tries but its just not as kind on the eyes_

_As Arabella, oh_

_As Arabella_

The first time they really, actually spent time together after their reconciliation, Carrie picked Flynn up in the car her dad had bought her, and Flynn had made a snarky remark on how pink it was. It was, however, quickly followed by a grin and a “I love it”, which dissipated Carrie’s sudden worry. And she wasn’t sure exactly at what point she looked over and saw Flynn mouthing along to some indie song on the radio as the sun illuminated her side profile. She did know that she had almost swerved into oncoming traffic though but Flynn grabbed the wheel and pulled it back, and their hands brushed and Carrie snapped back to reality. Her cheeks just as pink as the car and this tiny pain in her chest screaming to bubble up like soup when it’s boiling. You know the one.

And she kept on driving down the coast, trying not to look to her right, which was hard when Flynn was practically hanging out of the car, letting the wind weave through her fingers and screaming the words to the music playing even louder than Carrie thought was humanly possible. That was as the point at which she pulled onto the beach, reaching up to pull Flynn down before she fell when they turned. Flynn had a smile on her face and a glow to her that seemed like she’d stolen it from the falling sun.

When Carrie pulled two pairs of roller skates out from the trunk, leaving those big chunky headphones in the back seat, Flynn gave her a look that said “what the hell are you doing?” But Carrie just told her to strap them on. It didn’t matter that Flynn didn’t really know how to skate, Carrie had promised to teach her before the fight.

They spent a while there, Carrie holding onto Flynn’s hand as they slowly made their way down the pier, laughing because Flynn really did suck at it. And some of the regular beach goers and the people running their little booths and stands were happy to see that roller skate girl had a girlfriend now, someone to skate with instead of on her own.

_As Arabella_

_As Arabella_

_Just might have tapped into your mind and soul_

_You can’t be sure_

They sat on a suspiciously sticky bench, eating ice cream as the sun finally met the shoreline and the sky glowed this bright Orange that reminded Flynn of her best friends boyfriends weird ass beanie collection. Carrie reached over and put her hand over Flynn’s, and letting her turn her own hand over to hold onto Carries, locking their fingers together. And they didn’t speak, didn’t even make a noise, just watched the sunset, both with smiles on their faces and actual hearts in their eyes. It was quiet, and peaceful, and the perfect ending to a surprise first date.

_Just might have tapped into your mind and soul_

_You can’t be sure_


End file.
